again. It was sneering. There were dark stains on its shirt. There was a piece of intestine hanging down between its legs like a dangling wet cock.
Frank knew the look in the freak's eyes. The thing wanted to kill for sport. But instead of running at Frank and Josie, it waited for its friends to get closer. Maybe it was a zombie with some higher brain function left; it wanted reinforcements.
Frank took a step back and now he felt the wall right behind him. He knew that he'd eventually have to stop to change the magazine. And then the two of them were goners. The freaks would be able to rush them and close the gap. The only other option was the window behind him and Josie. Problem with that was that the drop was too high. If they chanced going out the window, best case they'd only break their legs and then they'd still be up shit's creek.
I should save two rounds for me and the girl, thought Frank. But I don't know how many I've got left in the chamber.
That might have been the end of them. It might have, if not for one thing:
Ray Morrison's kid, Pete, fourteen years old and cowering under an upstairs bed with a twenty gauge shotgun in his hand, had heard the shooting down the hall. And he didn't want to die alone.
10
Pete heard the shots. He knew that someone human had come to save him. He was the only one left from his family. His mom and dad were both zombies now, wandering around the property looking for fresh meat. And it made him sick to think about it, but Pete had killed his younger brother Sam, only six years old, with a shovel to the head after he'd converted following a bite to the hand.
This was ugly no matter how you looked at it. But now he had hope. People were here and maybe this was the time to come out with his gun blazing. He got out from under his bed holding his shotgun and stood up. He looked at the gun and it was shaking because his arm was shaking. It wasn't a big gun, just a double barrel twenty gauge, but you could kill a deer with it if you hit it right.
"Here goes nothing," said Pete to himself. He opened the door to his bedroom and saw a pack of zombies moving down toward the end of the hall. He shouted: "Take this, motherfuckers!"
His gun was loaded with bird shot. It wouldn't be lethal against a freak unless you hit it at point blank range in the face. But Pete wasn't thinking straight anymore. He shot into the mess of them and they stopped advancing. One of them turned and hissed at him. And then its head exploded.
For a second Pete thought he'd done it. Then he realized it. Someone he couldn't see was shooting them from the end of the hall. Pete only had one more shot loaded in the other barrel. He had some shells in his pockets. He lifted the shotgun again to aim, his arms shaking, and another zombie head exploded before he could take the shot.
From the end of the hall someone called out, "Get down. Stay down."
Pete got down on a knee and shot one more time. He blew a zombie knee to shreds from behind and made it stumble and fall. It tried to get up but couldn't walk on its bad leg.
From the other side of the mess, Frank picked off the targets one by one. No more saving bullets; no more thinking about death. Just aiming and shooting. Moving the sight from one shadowy head to the other. The heads exploded one after the other, spewing blood and tissue and bone as the bodies dropped to the floor. The last zombie Frank got was low. It was pulling itself along the floor with its hands. It grimaced and Frank knew this one - it was the one that had been feeding on Hutch. Frank squeezed the trigger and then the freak's face was gone, replaced by a bloody, hollow mess where its nose and eyes had been. It wasn't moving anymore.
Frank saw the kid then. He saw Pete kneeling with the little shotgun, a stunned look on his face.
Frank changed his magazine and then he waved to the kid. The kid had made just enough of a distraction to get them all through the zombie attack. Frank almost smiled. The kid looked in shock.
Josie and Frank went to the kid. The kid stood up. Josie said to him, "Are you okay?"
"I - I guess. Where did you come from?"
Josie looked back at Frank and then at the kid. "We're looking to take an airplane."
"My dad's dead," said Pete. "And my name's Pete." He held out his hand while he stood up and Josie shook it.
Josie said, "I'm Josie. We're looking for my dog, Hutch. Have you seen him?"
Frank shook his head and took Josie's hand and squeezed. "We can't help him now."
"What? Did he get - "
"Yeah. Gone," said Frank. It sucked breaking the news to Josie. Tough times. But this wasn't a place to think about feelings.
At least the house was clear.
11
Frank and the two kids left the house and went toward the barn. Frank saw Kelly and Todd walking toward them. He called out to them and said, "What's the airplane situation?"
Kelly said, "There's a Cessna 172 and a Piper Super Cub in the barn. They both have fuel. We won't all fit in one plane." Kelly looked at Pete then back at Frank. She knew The 172 could take 3 people, four if they wanted to risk it. But two kids and three adults and the thing might never get off the ground, especially on a grass strip. She said, "We'll have to take both planes."
"You're kidding me, right?" said Frank. "You're the only person who knows how to fly those things. No way that'll work."
"I can fly one," said Pete. Everyone looked at him. He had braces and pimples. He didn't look like an aviator. "I have Microsoft Flight Sim and X-Plane on my computer. I usually fly the heavy metal but I know how to handle the single-engine Cessnas no problem."
Kelly said, "This is for real. It's not a game."
"I know," said Pete. "But I know the flight model in the sim is close enough to the real thing.They've done tests. It stacks up pretty well to the real world."
"Shit," said Kelly. She looked at Frank again. "If we want to get everyone out of here at the same time we'll have to let him fly it."
Frank looked at the kid. He said, "His name's Pete. If he says he can do it, let him do it. We don't have a lot of options."
"Cool," said Pete. "I've always wanted to fly real world. Dad never used to take me up, but that was mainly mom being a hard-ass. She thought we'd crash together or something. This is going to rock."
"It's not cool," said Josie. She was moping. She had the right. "Hutch is dead."
"I'm sorry," said Kelly, putting her hand on Josie's arm. "We should go."
They all went to the barn. Todd and Frank opened both of the big doors and they pushed out the two airplanes. The sky had a red orange glow to it. There was the smell of smoke.
Kelly looked at the Cessna. It was the plane she'd trained on with Ray Morrison. It was the easier plane to fly by far. The Super Cub, on the other hand, was a taildragger. She had an idea of how to fly a taildragger, in theory, but that didn't mean it was a good idea to fly one for the first time with a passenger and no instructor. Taildraggers were all dandy until you did something wrong with the rudder, and then your day was ruined.
Kelly said, "Pete, you take the Skyhawk. I'll take the Supercub. Frank, you ride with me. The SuperCub can take more load." She figured Frank had to be at least 200 pounds of muscle, even though he was trim for a town cop.
"Umm...there's one thing, though," said Pete. "I know how to fly it, but I don't know how to start it. The engine's always running when I start the sim."
"Shit," said Kelly under her breath. She opened the pilot-side door on the Cessna and sat in the left seat. She knew she was rushing the pre-flight, but there was no telling when the zombies might come for them next. She turned off the panel switch and went through her flow: fuel selector to 'Both', mixture rich, slight throttle, strobe on, mags set to 'Both', three shots of primer, and Master on. She left the door open and said, "Everyone clear of the prop. It'll take your arm off."
The others stepped away from the plane and she pushed the button for the starter and the engine kicked over. It wasn't taking. She cranked it again for almost twenty seconds and stopped.
She tried to smell for gas, wondering if
she'd flooded it. But it smelled fine. She knew she had to be careful not to burn out the starter. It needed a minute's rest to be on the safe side. She gave it another two shots of prime and waited.
And that was when things got interesting again.
12
"Shit," said Frank. "We got company. You see em? They're walking up the dirt road. Maybe half a mile." Frank pointed away from the barn. Todd and the others looked. Todd saw them. It looked like a slow moving horde. A lot bigger than even the group that they'd seen walking up the road by the milk truck.
Frank went to the open door of the airplane. "You think you can speed that up and get it started?"
"I don't know," said Kelly. "I'm trying. Give me a minute."
"We don't exactly have a minute," said Frank. "There's a welcome crew coming up the road. They look hungry."
Kelly looked through the window of the airplane toward the road. She saw them. It made her sweat. She felt her heart pound. She was going to start this damn airplane.
Frank saw the strobe on the tail and said, "Turn the damn light off. The noise we've been making is bad enough as it is."
Kelly turned off the strobe light. Ray had told her to always light it. Under ordinary circumstances, it was a good idea. See and be seen. It was how small planes kept from running into each other. But was there anything ordinary about this day?
"Frank!" yelled Josie. "There are more of them. They're coming from behind the house. Quick! Do it